Peaches and Cream
by wirewrappedlily
Summary: A request for porn turns into.../this/... Derek gets hit with magic dust that makes his desires completely irresistable, and Stiles so happens to be the closest temptation. Angst and misunderstandings ensue. M for porn because, yeah XP Sterek


The first sign Stiles had that he should have been worried was the fact that a voice very much like Lydia's was screaming in his head "Your first clue that he liked you was that he got you naked. That should not have been your first clue!"

But he was kind of pinned between an equally nude Derek Hale and the wall, and he would die before he'd ever consent to questioning why he wasn't either a) pissed off and grossed out, or b) freaking the fuck out. Might have had something to do with his boner. Just…it was a possible reason. Maybe.

Derek had his head down, his nose buried in the crook where Stiles's neck became his shoulder, breathing—or trying to, and Stiles could see the light shimmer of peach-coloured powder on his skin.

"Derek. Derek, listen to me." Stiles got a growl, Derek's body vibrating, his hands curling into fists where they set against the wall on either side of him, "Derek, you've been dosed with something, and as much as I'd be more than okay with losing my virginity to you, I don't want some sort of hoodoo-induced romp to be me losing my v-card." Derek growled again. "Please?" Stiles's voice shook, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, and Derek shifted so that his mouth covered over Stiles's throat, open and wet, but not quite a bite, "You don't even like me—you said you'd rip my throat out with your teeth—You don't like me." Stiles was shaking, he knew, and he couldn't convince his limbs to touch Derek anywhere but where Derek touched him, couldn't even convince them to stop from trying to draw away from the touches. He was shrinking into the cold wall behind him, he knew, and then Derek's heat was lifting back, backing away, and Stiles's knees nearly gave out in relief, his adrenaline picking up, "You have to wash the powder off, Derek. I want to stay and help you, but if I have to go, I will."

Derek didn't reply, nearly falling to the ground as he forced himself to back up blindly, eyes focussed on Stiles, on Stiles's throat. "D-Don't…"

Stiles held his hands up, a sign of truce as he crouched to retrieve the clothes that Derek had very nearly shredded, pulling them on with slow, steady movements, listening to the shaking breathing rasping out of the Alpha's throat, "Derek, can I stay here and help you?"Derek's eyes widened to the size of saucers for a moment, making him look unbearably young despite the stubble; making him look like he must've when he was that young boy Kate Argent had hooked her claws in. Stiles ached at the thought. He nodded after a moment, though; a jerk of his head while his body continued to shake, and Stiles let out a quiet breath, moving slowly and steadily out of the construction area that was Derek's living room.

Stiles wondered idly if he was so calm because he was going into shock, but he forced the thought aside; forced his hands to gather up a bowl of water and a tea towel, using the same, slow and steady tread to walk back as he had to leave the room. Derek was hunched up, naked and shuddering in the corner, his claws digging into his thigh and shifting back and forth from human to wolf.

"Derek, stop." Stiles ordered with a shockingly even, calm voice; the strength of the order rivalling that of Derek's Alpha growl. Derek jerked as if Stiles had hit him, and made a wounded sound, taking his fingers away from his thigh. "Derek, I have something to take that stuff off of your skin. I will leave it here and you can do it, or I will do it for you; you have to tell me now."

"You." Came the choked, gritty reply, and Stiles felt his heart twist in pain. There was desperation and agony in Derek's voice, and Stiles was getting steadily pissed at whoever had done whatever it was that had been done.

Derek slowly dragged himself over from his corner, meeting Stiles half way, and Stiles knelt down immediately, slowly taking up the wet towel and holding it where Derek could see for a moment before placing it on Derek's skin. Derek growled, his eyes flashing from agony-filled hazel to ravenous red and back again; the wolf and the man fighting for control. Stiles wondered what the hell about the wolf wanted him naked, anyways, but he couldn't make his tongue move for once, leaden in his mouth as Derek's body tremoured under his touches with the cloth, the pink sheen being stroked steadily away, Derek's skin a glowing bronze beneath it, and Stiles's heart beat faster, his mouth filling with saliva as his pupil dilated—and he knew Derek could see all these signs, and would know not even from the smell of him that he wanted Derek. The first sign he wanted Derek was when Derek got him naked, too: so shut up brain-Lydia.

Stiles looked away when Derek's skin was clear of the powder; thankfully limited to his face and shoulders, because if Stiles had had to go any lower, they'd be back against the wall and Stiles would not be talking him down. "Why?" Derek asked suddenly, and Stiles had a desperate moment of dear-gods-was-that-out-loud before he confirmed that no, it wasn't.

"Why what?"

"Why are you helping me?" Derek ground out, the words like splintered glass.

Stiles's heart was no longer content with being the only thing in pain; his whole chest kicked in, too, "Because you're someone I…you're someone I care about. You've saved my life, and I've saved yours, and I don't care about your lone-wolf manpain: I am man enough to admit that I don't want to see your stupid Alpha ass dead or hurt when I can help keep it from ending up that way." Derek growled, letting out another full-body shudder, and Stiles barely resisted the urge to try to touch him, to comfort him. "I'm going to call Lydia; she will research it. But I am going to stay here with you, too." Stiles told him, pulling out his phone with steadier hands than he thought he'd have.

"I-I won't attack you again." Derek managed, voice almost breathless and cheeks turning pink. Stiles had to touch him, gasping slightly as he reached for Derek's forehead and connected with feverish skin while Derek whimpered under his hand, pushing into the touch with a broken pressed his hand against Derek's forehead, listening to the way Derek's breathing changed, as he dialled for Lydia.

Lydia, by glorious virtue of not being Scott, picked up on the fourth ring, and Stiles thanked the gods of all that was good that there was only one Scott and everyone else picked up their damn phones like normal people. "Lydia, please, it's Stiles, I need your help." Stiles laid it out for her; describing the symptoms rapid-fast, "And it was a peachy-gold shimmer powder. I didn't notice a smell, but I've wiped it off."

"Oooh, peachy-gold shimmer? That'd look good with his colouring." Lydia chirped.

Stiles was not amused; was too worried about the werewolf nuzzling into his palm to be anything but borderline-acerbic, "Lydia, yes he's gorgeous, now can we please focus?"

"Relax, Stiles, he's yours, I know." Lydia cooed, and Stiles took a moment before he realized she'd hung up on him with that. Resisting the urge to throw his phone at the wall solely because he'd need it to help Derek, Stiles focussed on the wolf that seemed to be fighting the urge to crawl closer to him.

Stiles moved just slightly closer himself, placing his other hand on Derek's cheek, knowing reaching for his neck to take his pulse would be a bad idea. He could feel it in Derek's temples anyway; fluttering under his fingers as Derek's eyes fluttered almost shut for a moment, his body just this side of going slack. "Hey, sourwolf, no giving out on me just yet. Think we could get you into a bed?" Derek didn't answer—probably couldn't answer, but Stiles was willing to try anyway, his hand wrapping around Derek's arm and hoisting it over his shoulders, picking up on the trembling muscles under his fingers, too slight to be visible, but probably burning through Derek's body if all of him was shaking like that; eating through energy. Stiles wondered with no small amount of venom if it was part of the powder or if it was a result of cold; and the venom was mainly there because Stiles was leaning already more towards powder than he was cold.

Derek shuffled along beside him, moving like each step was causing him pain, and Stiles had to wonder if that was because Derek was trying to keep this from affecting him; if Derek was making himself walk along and resist attacking Stiles again at once, and it was an up hill battle for every step.

Stiles did not like that thought. "Derek, does my touching you make it better or worse?"

A muscle in Derek's jaw began to do a riverdance under his skin, and Stiles could surmise that meant he didn't want to answer, which probably meant "better", and his side pressed against Derek's fully, the few tears in his clothes giving a press of scalding-hot skin where the rest simply made him feel like he was baking slowly. Derek let out a small sound that was a painful relief, like Stiles had just torn an arrow from his skin and he was allowed to heal now, and Stiles resolved to hang on, baked or not.

"You need water…no, you need juice or Powerade, something like that."

"Fridge…" Derek half-groaned, half-sighed, letting Stiles drop him onto the mattress he'd put on the ground in one of the more structurally-sound bedrooms.

"I am going to make some pretty sudden movements to get that, be prepared."

Derek huffed something dangerously close to a laugh, "I don't think I could…anymore…"

"You feel like lead?" Stiles confirmed, and Derek nodded slowly, "then don't try to move, alright? Is there anything else you need?" Dere shook his head, wincing as Stiles took his hands away completely.

Stiles bolted for the kitchen, slamming into the cupboards in his haste before falling on the ancient fridge, gathering up both juice and water and Powerade, running at slightly less than full-tilt back up the stairs and into the old room with his bounty. Derek looked up at him with haunted eyes; those eyes he'd seen before, in his mom when she was sick, and the others…

"No. Derek, I don't know how, but you will fight this." Stiles snapped, dumping his loot onto a clear portion of the mattress and snatching up the Powerade, opening it up and putting it to Derek's lips, "We don't even know what this is yet—you are not dying by something that had you stripping and forcably stripping me. You don't even like me! You don't want my stupid face to be the last thing you see, I wouldn't want my stupid face to be the last thing you see!"

Derek rumbled, touching Stiles's hand to take the drink away as he scowled, "I do like you, you idiot."He snapped, and Stiles mentally fist-pumped, despite his confusion."The powder…"

Stiles's phone rang, and Stiles went for it, recognizing Lydia's ringtone, "Stilinski, you will both love and hate this: The powder is derived from a certain kind of mythical aphrodisiac flower. It's meant to drive the desires of whoever it's applied to to the nth, but only whatever is in range." Her words were punctuated by an uncomfortable sound from Derek, and Stiles realized that that mean…Dear god, that meant Derek wanted him nude. He scheduled his freak-out for later, "That you aren't getting fucked through the sad, sad remains of that house is a testament to how much he must love you, because, dude, goliaths are said to have fallen to the whims of this thing. But here comes the hate-bit: his system has to push it out itself; like, he can't hurry it with the healing factor and there's no way to stop it, you've just gotta ride it out…well, not you, because you've yet to ride him, but you get what I mean."

Stiles closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep from doing anything like screeching at her through the phone because he was trying to stop himself from blushing around the wolves, and this was not helping, "Lydia, thank you for the research." He said in a dead voice.

"Shut up, you know you want him. Hell, Jackson might actually secretly lust after him, and he's best friends with Danny. And he has me." Stiles needed new friends. He needed new friends like breathing. "Go bed the bastard, Stilinski."

"Would it help get it out of his system?"

"No, and stop sounding like you're stoned into serenity, it's creepy."

"I don't want to bed him, he's using up too much energy shaking right now. It's like all his muscles have been set to vibrate. You remember what happened to Dee Dee in third grade? That girl with diabetes?"

"Oooh, yeah." Lydia's voice went soft, almost apologetic. "What was it Mrs. McCall said? Sugar and fluids for when you feel shaky?"

"It's what I'm attempting, but his temperature could probably fry bacon on those rock-hard abs, and I'm freaking out here." Stiles heaved a heavy sigh when Lydia was a beat too long in responding, and she squeaked slightly, "Just…please, Lyds, keep looking? Find something?"

"I'll try, Stilinski, but only because you're the idiot brother I never wanted."

"Aw, love you, too, Lyds," Stiles sneered, hanging up and turning back to the bed, sitting down close enough that his leg was curled up against Derek's thigh. Derek shivered visibly for a moment before his body went lax, his eyes drooping, "Lydia is on the job. You of all people will get through this, Derek. You're not going to die because of some lame-ass flower: You're the motherfucking Alpha, you kick ass." Stiles went for Derek's cheek again, holding his head between his hands, more to feel his pulse at the tips of Stiles's long, thin fingers than to do anything else. Derek sighed, his eyes slipping closed, and Stiles realized that was sleep just a moment before he resolved to shaking Derek awake.

Stiles stayed just like that, coaxing water and juice between Derek's lips every so often, until the watery hours of dawn's twilight when Derek's fever broke, and his body, finally, fully shut down into rest.

Stiles was there; he was in range, easiest to get to. Derek just…he'd desired sex. And Derek must've…known. Before even Stiles did. Because werewolves were jerks and fucking did shit like that.

That lasted a week before he was cornered in the lunch room. Jackson and Boyd had a hand on either of his shoulders, steering him towards a table, seating him in the middle and flanking him, without any of their lunches.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" Stiles deadpanned, unimpressed.

Danny, Lydia, and Erica set down lunches in front of each of them as well as their own, Isaac sitting at one end and Allison sitting a confused Scott down at the other forcefully before sitting beside him.

"How the hell did you spend the night through that flower thing and not pop your cherry, Stilinski?" Lydia demanded as Erica opened her mouth to speak.

"What Lydia is trying to say is that you have been moping for a week; and so has Derek. We would like to know why you've stayed out of pack business; why you've stayed away; and what the hell is going on in that ridiculously smart, idiot brain of yours." Boyd filled in, calm and smooth as if he was discussing the weather and hadn't helped trap him here.

"What?"Stiles shrilled, "I'm not! I'm f—"

"So help me, Stilinski, you say 'fine' and I'll find some of that flower and dose you both and set you off on each other just to see who lasts longest!" Lydia threatened.

"Stiles hasn't been moping!" Scott piped up. Allison looked at him with all the venom a living Disney princess could gather (which was a surprising amount, actually), rolling her eyes, "What?!"

"You see nothing, do you, McCall?" Erica snarked, "Stiles, speak."

"I am not a puppy. I said no to the big bad bite."

"Stiles, do you not want Derek?" Danny asked, and Stiles looked around the table accusingly, because Danny was supposed to be human, "Yeah, I know, moving on now, Stiles: Do you want Derek, or don't you?"

"I…Look, guys, it was just…Derek wanted sex, and I was—"

"No, you idiot! Derek wants you!" Lydia was hopping up and down in her seat, flailing slightly at him. "It's not just desire, we are talking about world-ending epicness here! It's to do with instinct, you fucking moron! Derek and his wolf are pulled by base desires: hunt, mate, pack—Guess where you fit in, Runs With Wolves Without Pants!"

Stiles's mouth dropped open, "What?"

Jackson started laughing, "Stiles, just…just think. Derek turned his back on a threat to protect you." Allison cooed, leaning forward, around Scott, who looked insane.

"He's been 'watching over you'," Erica's voice went deep and smooth like she was imitating Derek's—it failed, "for a month, honey. Like, sitting by your bedroom window."

"Like Scott used to." Allison hummed, cocking her head to one side considering this new information.

"Stiles, Scott isn't pack, but you are. And the only reason we haven't done anything is because of you." Boyd sounded like he agreed with these epically flawed conclusions.

"Use lube." Danny called as Stiles's body took over while his mind still stalled, raising him up away from the table and making him almost run from the cafeteria with a final call of "I loathe you all!"as Jackson continued to laugh.

Danny smiled at Isaac, and Isaac beamed back, ducking his head and looking shyly up at Danny through his lashes, "It'll all work out."

~

Stiles nearly killed himself getting from Jeep into Hale house, but Derek heard him coming and he didn't have to go much farther.

Someone, some deity somewhere, decided to gift him with the leaping ability of a gazelle after that, because his mouth was on Derek's, and his arms were around his shoulders and Derek was stumbling backwards through the door again. Probably in shock. Derek was also holding him up, Stiles's legs both kicked up to force him to or let him drop.

Derek turned his head away after a long moment, and Stiles gasped, burying his hand in Derek's surprisingly soft hair, trying to get the rub of soft stubble and the taste of Derek's lips and coffee back in his mouth, "No, what are you doing?"

"I'm in love with you, and you love me, and I thought you didn't, I thought I was just…nearby and you wanted sex, but you didn't because you love me and I'm your mate. More kisses now." Stiles demanded, like that would get him anywhere.

What it got him was Derek's head turned back, eyes wide and suspicious-confused, and Stiles could totally live with that. Stiles slipped his tongue into Derek's mouth, and Derek growled, Stiles gasping at the taste of it, running his tongue over Derek's teeth that could easily rip his throat out if Derek ever was put in the position of losing control again.

But Derek didn't lose control; he never would. He'd be born into this, and no amount of losing practice was going to change that, even though magic fairy dust might. "I trust you, you goddamn sourwolf. I would've trusted you—I would've let you…you're stronger…" Stiles knew he wasn't making sense, but he hoped Derek could pick up on it anyway.

Derek's hand fisted in the back of his hoodie, pressing their chests closer together as his tongue fought back, and Stiles moaned long and helpless into Derek's mouth in response.

Derek stumbled into the other room, the room this had all begun in, fumbling blindly at clothes. Stiles slapped his hands away while he sucked on Derek's tongue, hooking his legs around Derek's waist to shirk his shirt and hoodie in one surprisingly smooth go, kicking up renovation dust as he threw them to the ground, grinning at Derek's throaty rumble of approval before he tugged at Derek's shirt, wanting skin. Derek pressed him back, against the wall, and leaned back slightly to strip his shirt off, reconnecting their mouths eagerly. Stiles was doing an inner happy dance that that look; everything about this was all caused by him, and he could do it again. There was no fairy dust or misconceptions. Stiles clung on, their kisses bruising now and so hot Stiles felt like he was being baked again. Derek's hand slipped down over his lower back and down the back of his jeans, and Stiles rode up, breaking a kiss even though he kept Derek's lower lip, sucking and biting with a smirk, "Bed. Lube. Now."

Derek smirked back, looking up to look into Stiles's eyes where he was perched around Derek's hips still, "That's the most mono-syllabic you've ever been."

"Do you want this body?" Derek growled, nodding thoughtfully as he palmed over it, making Stiles arch against him, "Then take me to bed before I come to my senses." Stiles snickered breathlessly, kissing the soft spot under Derek's ear before nibbling at the lobe.

Stiles skipped over Derek's neck, sucking a mark that wouldn't last onto Derek's shoulder as Derek tucked him close and ran up the stairs, watching where he was going over Stiles's shoulder. Stiles bounced on the mattress as Derek dropped him, but he wasted no time in undoing and yanking Derek's jeans down in retaliation, his skin heating as he looked at Derek with his jeans around his knees and a soft, almost-fond smirk on his mouth, "We don't have t—"

"Yes, yes we do. Dear god, we do, I want you." Stiles told him in a sudden rush, scrabbling backwards on the bed and dragging his own jeans down. "Please?" Stiles turned huge, doe-eyes on Derek, biting his lower lip just slightly, leaving it red and shining.

Derek scoffed for a moment, "Like I could say no when you look like that…" Derek breathed, dropping down on the bed, tugging Stiles's jeans the rest of the way off before shedding his own, kicking them away. He laid his hand against Stiles's thigh with a gentleness that would belie how strong he could be, gripping lightly and then pulling Stiles back down to him slowly, laying Stiles out over his bed. Derek's eyes flickered over every inch of Stiles's skin, taking in and studying him, and Stiles whimpered slightly, red under the attention and almost painfully embarrassed by the dark light and hunger in Derek's eyes, "You've never…?" Stiles shook his head, swallowing heavily again, and Derek nodded, kneeling up to kiss Stiles long and deep, cupping his hand under Stiles's jaw to keep him there. "You tell me if I do anything you don't want." Stiles nodded shakily, hesitating only a little as he moved his legs around Derek's body, open against the bed. Derek kissed Stiles's jugular almost sweetly before he began to trail kisses and tiny little nips over Stiles's skin, down to a harder bite on Stiles's left hip, one that would mark and one that Derek intended to mark as he sucked on the skin until Stiles hissed.

Slowly, Derek's hands flipped him around, getting his leg to curl up under him, and Stiles was so acutely aroused he almost wasn't nervous. Which was saying something. Derek kissed slowly from Stiles's shoulder to the swell of his ass, his thumbs holding Stiles apart before his tongue flicked out over Stiles's entrance, dipping in.

Stiles tensed and moaned, his dick throbbing against the mattress as Derek turned him inside out with his fingers and tongue, ignoring all begging and threats that Stiles couldn't even really get a hold of; couldn't get his mind around. Derek rolled him onto his back slowly, kissing over his skin, and Stiles made a desperate sound, feeling like he would come just from one of Derek's fingers if he touched him now. "I—"

"No, get in me, please, I don't care if I come just from that, I want you at least in me!" Stiles whined, and Derek brushed a hand over his cheek softly, his eyes fond.

"Stiles, I can get you off and get you hard again." He told him softly, and Stiles's eyes widened, his mouth falling softly open. Derek leaned up again to kiss him, then moved back down, slipping a finger inside as he slid his lips around Stiles's cock.

Derek looked up at Stiles, letting his eyes flash red for just a moment as he brushed over Stiles's prostate and sucked, and that was all it took, Stiles's eyes rolling up and his body tensing almost jerkily before he went limp, moaning. Prowling up Stiles's body, Derek grinned at the sloppy, sexed haze of a smile on Stiles's face, letting Stiles draw him in for another kiss; knowing that Stiles could taste himself. Stiles moaned into his mouth, gripping onto him, "Finish…finish prepping me…" Stiles's voice went for demand but came closer to beg, and Derek smiled against his lips.

"You'll—"

"I'll tell you if you hurt me, just please."

Derek reached over, getting lube and a condom from a bag he had beside his bed, slipping his fingers into Stiles as he kissed him, feeling the slight arch and rock of Stiles's body in response, like a jolt, "Okay?" Stiles nodded against his lips, looking half-lidded and soft. Derek kissed him again, "You were staying away…I thought I'd—"

"No! Couldn't handle seeing you after I realized how much I wanted you. I thought…th-thought you didn't want me." Derek growled at that, taking Stiles's hand and wrapping it around his cock.

"Feel that? That's how much I want you." Stiles shivered, moaning as he slowly pumped his hand, smearing precum over Derek's length. "You're mine. You're my mate."

Stiles tore his eyes away from Derek's body and up to his eyes, a small smile flashing out like the silver of a knife, "I am going to completely take advantage of that next time I'm supposedly in trouble."

"You're almost constantly in trouble." Derek growled, eyes narrowed as he slipped another finger in, making Stiles's back arch for a second before he rode it out, biting his lip. "You are…You're the supermagnet of trouble. You're not even just simply a magnet. You actively try to make it difficult to protect you." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Just because you can't keep up with your puny human—" Derek growled in response, twisting his fingers and drawing out a high, keening noise of pleasure, "You don't even know the textbook definition of fighting fair here, do you?"

"You press your advantages, I'll press mine." Derek smirked, his hand closing around Stiles's dick as he kissed Stiles silent again. Stiles squirmed slightly, and Derek knew when Stiles's shifting had gotten his fingers against Stiles's prostate by his widened eyes and gasp, drawing out a short bark of a laugh from Derek as he concentrated on hitting that angle, drawing out more sounds.

"I'm ready." Stiles complained, "I'm totally ready for this."

"I refuse to hurt you, so no, you aren't."

"Hey, no! It's a first-time kind of sore, not a bad-sore!" Stiles slid his legs up around Derek's waist, Derek's huge hand curling around his hip and dragging him down slightly, getting him into position.

Derek groaned as Stiles bucked against his fingers withdrawing, reaching for the condom and slicking himself further before Stiles caught him, dragging him down for a kiss, messy and hot, bringing Derek fully to the moment. "I like you—I love you."

"I know." Stiles replied simply, putting the storm in Derek's chest into a glass bottle with the light shining in his big, brown eyes. Stiles's lips quirked just slightly up, "I know." Derek relaxed, because he could do this: if Stiles could understand him, he could do this.

Derek bit down on his lower lip, slowly sliding into the tight heat of Stiles's body, listening intently for any flash of pain in the noises Stiles steadily began to stream from his made-for-sex mouth. Stiles relaxed around him, groaning and squeezing at his shoulders as Derek inched the last of himself inside, biting harder at his lip at the hot little flutters Stiles's muscles made around him, "Tell me when you're…when you're ready…" Derek panted, his hands sliding over Stiles's thighs, eager over his stomach, the motion almost desperate in the counterpoint they were to the rest of Derek's body, held so perfectly still he might've been turned to stone if Stiles couldn't feel the deliciously warm skin of him.

Stiles reached for another kiss, moaning at the slightly movement that forced within him, "Now. 'M ready." Stiles whispered with a gruff voice, sliding down against Derek as much as he could, "Fuck me into the mattress, Derek, please."

Derek snorted, pulling out carefully and pushing back in only slightly less slowly than he had the first time, watching avidly as Stiles's eyes rolled back in his head a little bit, his legs spreading wider to ease the slight pressure. "Okay?"

"I am not made of glass, Hale, stop freaking out." Stiles laughed, pulling him down for a kiss and groaning into his mouth, arching beseechingly into the touches of Derek's skin on his. Derek began to pick up a pace, his fingers uncurling and playing over Stiles's creamy skin as he breathed through it, shivering slightly in pleasure. "Mmm, yeah. C'mon, Derek, this isn't just about me." Derek nearly growled, because yes, it was all about him. He was the one causing all of this; he was the one driving Derek insane with his stupid way of talking and his deceptive shyness. Stiles pulled at him, pushing against his thrusts, and Derek did growl, moving faster and harder, losing control of his movements in the face of the way Stiles cried out and lost coherency.

Stiles gasped out a litany of "oh, God"s and "Derek"s and "please more", his skin flushed the most scrumptious raspberry as Derek mapped freckles with his mouth. "Can you come again?"

Stiles nodded dazedly, Derek knocking his hand away from reaching for his own cock and wrapping his own around it, thumbing Stiles's head and fucking his tongue in Stiles's mouth. Stiles tensed, squeezing down around him tight and arching as he cried out and came, the hot little tense-release of his muscles forcing Derek over the edge, biting down on Stiles's shoulder as he came pressed deep into him, Stiles crying out and clutching his hair roughly. Stiles went languid against the sheets, pulling Derek in for hot, wet kisses and whimpering into them as Derek pulled carefully out. Stiles soothed his hands over Derek's shoulders, down his back, "I'm okay. I'm fine, you didn't hurt me." He panted, tensing for a moment like he was trying to sit up and falling back, unable to. "I might need a moment more to regain control of my limbs."

"You're running away on me?"

Stiles's eyebrows shot up, "You're inviting me for cuddles?" Derek narrowed his eyes, "I want cuddles. If I'm staying, you are snuggling in." Stiles changed tactics, demanding again. Derek snorted, turning Stiles onto his side and sliding around him, spooning him in strong arms lightly sheened over with sweat. Derek scrubbed them off with a corner of blanket, and Stiles curled up inside the shell Derek made, his eyes flickering closed as Derek kissed the mark in his shoulder, "The first sign I had that you liked me was that you got me naked. That should not have been the first sign."

"For a moderately smart person, Stilinski, you are an idiot."

Stiles smiled against the paler skin of the soft of Derek's elbow, ducking against his arm and closing his eyes. Derek tensed behind him for a moment, turning his head, the tickle of his hair over Stiles's bare back the tell, "What is it?"

"Scott's threatening me from outside the house. Something along the lines of 'hurt him and Mr. Stilinski will help me hide your body'."

"Can Scott hear me?"

"He says that yes he can." Stiles knew from the held- back laughter in Derek's voice that that wasn't all Scott was saying.

"Well, then, I would like to remind Scott that you take better care of me than he does half the time. At least you answer your damn phone. So do me a favour, Scott, and get off Derek's property. Erica's probably on her way to try to catch us naked and her seeing you here would end badly." Derek nuzzled against his shoulder blade, smiling against his skin, and Stiles smiled in response, "What's he saying?"

"He's not happy, but he says you're right about Erica even if you're wrong about me taking better care of you. Which, you aren't wrong about that, either. He's my mate, Scott."

"He's my best friend!" Scott yelled from the floor below them.

"Scott, you are ruining my afterglow, I will not forgive you for this. By the way, I lost my virginity. You will high-five me later like a good best friend, or I'll show Allison those pictures of the duck costume!" Stiles heard the door slam closed, and he grinned, "Sometimes I think we're just friends because of the blackmail material we have on each other."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head slightly. He heaved a sigh and sat up, though, turning back when Stiles whined at him and letting his voice show something bordering fear, "You really aren't wrong about Erica, though, so we need pants."

Stiles didn't know if the shrill voice of Lydia two and a half minutes later was actually Lydia or his imagination, but he smiled at the accusation in "Stiles, why on earth would you let him put a shirt on?!" and fell asleep with his face in the curve of Derek's shoulder, safe.

* * *

**A/N: So, I got an influx of requests for Sterek porn on Tumblr last night, and thus this was born. But, since mostly it was anonymous for all but one request, this is dedicated to science-of-rimming. Hope you like it, my dear. **

**As always, no beta, and unfortunately I lost the formatting in translation, so I'm a little sad, but it's also posted on my Tumblr under a Read More if you want to try to find it XP  
**

**Anywho, enjoy.  
**


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